Prophecy:  Reconstructed
by Kila9Nishika
Summary: One push too many pushes Sirius to the point of nearly-suicidal.  How does this affect the Prophecy?  Hinted slash, torture, and VERY angsty.
1. Prophecy

**Disclaimer:** As I am a simple person who does not own tons and tons of money, I must admit to being a plain American girl, and not JK Rowling. Therefore, I do not own Harry Potter and the connected involved characters. Oh, well...

**WARNINGS:** This story contains mild slash, extreme torture, (but not too graphic,) possible bad language, and depression of the highest degree. This is not a fluffy fic. Furthermore, there are no Horcruxes, and, as far as I'm concerned, books six and seven DID NOT HAPPEN. Right-o, to the story, now...

* * *

"Happy birthday, Padfoot!" James Potter tossed a pillow at the now-seventeen-year-old, narrowly missing him as the grey-eyed brunette ducked.

"What type of throw is that, Chaser?" Sirius barked; his face lighting up in a grin. Whirling around, he deftly caught the package that Peter had thrown at him out of the air, smirking. "I'm a _Beater_, not a Keeper. No need to throw stuff – oomph!"

Remus Lupin, who was sitting halfway across the room with his nose in a book, had managed to accurately toss a small package directly into Sirius' stomach.

After a lovely drama (not) with plentiful (insincere) tears, Sirius opened the package, and stared.

"Moony," he croaked. "What…"

"What'd he give you, Pads?" James bounced over and flopped down on the bed, turning upside-down to get a glimpse of Sirius' gift. "Wow…"

Wow was right. Remus had somehow managed to buy a star made from pewter, and put it on a leather necklace.

Remus was flushed. "I saw it in Hogsmeade, and I thought, well…" he ducked behind his book. "It's a star. Like, Sirius. You know?"

Sirius grinned, and put the necklace on, sliding the star under his shirt. "It's brilliant, Moony. Absolutely brilliant."

* * *

_The One with the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord Approaches…_

* * *

"Listen, Sirius – I – I'm sorry, but I don't –"

Sirius pressed his lips together hard, and forced himself to refrain from crying. Damn, he was nineteen! Being turned down by the guy he'd been crushing on since fifth year shouldn't hurt so much –

Okay, maybe it should. But still, that didn't make it feel any better as Remus returned to the wedding party for James and Lily, and Sirius stood outside, shivering slightly.

Swallowing back something that threatened to resemble a sob, Sirius clutched the front of his shirt where it hid the necklace that he wore all of the time. Feeling the heavy metal of the star cutting into his palm made him feel a little less like throwing himself off of a cliff, but didn't really help him with the whole going into the Wedding-Where-Remus-Was after his heart being crushed thing.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius walked into the noisy hall. Maybe he could somehow make tonight alright. Things would eventually look up, right?

* * *

_Born to Those Who Have Thrice Defied Him…_

* * *

Three weeks later, Sirius looked back, and barely managed to keep from screaming. No, things had not gotten better. And Remus was still not-quite-looking at him, and Peter kept shooting him weird glances, and Lily still hated him and James was all mushy over Lily.

So Sirius did what he always did when he felt like things were too much to handle. He focused on the here-and-now, and tried not to think.

Unfortunately, the here-and-now was in the living room of the Potter house, and not thinking was difficult, especially when Lily Potter is standing in front of you looking furious.

"What are you _doing_ here, Black!" she snapped, her green eyes were flashing with anger.

Sirius groaned, and sat up.

"I _was_ sleeping on the sofa of my best mate's house. And seeing as my best mate is your husband, you can at least call me by my first name." Sirius straightened his hair a little, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh really! Black, you are the most infuriating –"

Suddenly, Sirius felt tired. Not physically tired, but tired of being hated, of nobody caring about him.

"Listen, Lily – why do you hate me so much? Everything that I did at Hogwarts, James did too. Can you at least tell me why you hate me so that I can attempt to fix it?"

Lily looked stunned, and rather at loss for words.

"You – you're irresponsible!" she burst out after a moment. "And you never take anything seriously, and Merlin this is _war_ and you are always dragging James and Remus and Peter off to do irresponsible and dangerous things, and you've upset Remus for some reason –"

"Wait. What?" Sirius was standing now, and he vaguely noticed James enter the room. "I will agree that I am an irresponsible idiot, but I actually _do_ understand that there is a war going on. But if we constantly live in fear, and never have fun, then we've already lost the war."

Breathing hard, Sirius clutched at the front of his shirt, where his star-necklace lay hidden beneath the greyish-white fabric. "And as for me upsetting Remus – I haven't spoken to him since your wedding, because he bloody broke my heart!"

Lily was frozen, her eyes wide, while James strode into the room, catching Sirius as his legs gave out. Recognizing the signs of Sirius-Exhaustion, (otherwise known as the time when Sirius just can't handle life anymore,) James put his arms around his best friend.

"We've got you," he said, holding Sirius as the barely-twenty-year-old sobbed. "It's alright, we've got you."

* * *

_Born As the Seventh Month Dies…_

* * *

"Happy Anniversary," Dumbledore said gravely. "I am sorry to bring such grave news on this fine day."

Sirius took baby Harry from Lily, and stood off to the side as the Potters sat down nervously in front of their ex-headmaster.

"I had hoped to not need to worry you about this matter," Dumbledore said, "But certain circumstances have pushed possibilities into perspective, and I find myself forced to share a weighty secret."

James shifted uneasily. "Sir?"

Dumbledore sighed. "The day before your wedding, I interviewed a possible Divination teacher for the empty post. At first, I thought the woman to be a complete fraud, but then, she gave a true prophecy."

Lily's lips tightened. "You know what I think of Divination, Sir."

Dumbledore sighed. "I do," he agreed. "But in this case, what _you_ believe matters less than what Voldemort believes."

James frowned. "You-Know-Who believes this… prophecy?"

Dumbledore nodded. "The prophecy is… _The One with the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord Approaches… Born to Those Who Have Thrice Defied Him… Born as the Seventh Month Dies… And the Dark Lord Shall Mark Him As His Equal… But He Shall Have the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not… And Either Must Die at the Hands of the Other for Neither Can Live While the Other Survives… The One with the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord Shall Be Born as the Seventh Month Dies_…"

Sirius shifted uneasily in the corner. He wondered if Dumbledore had forgotten his presence, and gave baby Harry a faint smile as the tot settled down to sleep.

"It's talking about Harry, isn't it," Lily stated expressionlessly. "Or, that's what You-Know-Who thinks."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "I thought… perhaps you should go into hiding? The Fidelius Charm would be best, I believe. I would be happy to be your Secret Keeper, but, alas, I find myself in close contact with too many people. I do not trust myself."

Lily shifted. "Headmaster…"

"I'll do it."

There was an odd gleam in Sirius' nearly-silver eyes as he stepped into the light of the room. "I'll be the Secret Keeper."

And the clock struck midnight, ending the month of September, 1980.

* * *

_And the Dark Lord Shall Mark Him As His Equal…_

* * *

A flash of green light slammed into the sign hanging over one of the shops in Diagon Alley, causing a loud explosion that sent hordes of people ducking for cover.

Within moments, members of the Order of the Phoenix and the Aurors had begun to fight the Death Eaters.

Someone screamed as a cruse severed their arm from their body, while a young woman shrieked as her husband was hit with a killing curse. And then –

"Lily!"

A flash of green light, but James was too far away –

Lily fell to the ground, Sirius on top of her. Before she could say a word, he was back up, and fighting again, despite having just had a close shave and having saved her life. But then –

"Ahhhh. Sirius Black."

Shrieks of "It's Him!" and "Run!" echoed from every corner of the Alley as Voldemort appeared. To everyone's shock and surprise, though, Sirius didn't run. He placed himself defiantly in front of where Lily was sprawled.

"Gonna just stand there, Voldemort?" Sirius drawled, drawing gasps and screams from the spectators. "I'm ready to fight, when you are…"

The duel lasted until Dumbledore arrived in Diagon Alley. Not only was it the most incredible duel that most people had ever seen, but it was stunning, the thought that an ordinary (in somewhat mad) person could stand up to Lord Voldemort himself.

"They say that he's gone crazy," it was said, in the following weeks. And from watching Sirius fling curses and countercurses like pillows while dodging flashes of lethal light cast by Voldemort, it was extremely easy to believe.

Thankfully, aside from complete magical exhaustion and mental collapse, Sirius was fine.

A week later, Remus Flooed to the Potters.

"How is he?" Remus felt odd, asking after Sirius, when they had been barely polite to each other the last few times they had met.

Lily rubbed her eyes. "He's mostly fine. They're keeping him in St. Mungo's for a while, because one of the curses that Voldemort cast that connected made a scar that the Healers can't figure out."

Remus' eyes widened. "What type of scar?" Most scars, even curse scars, were rather easily healed, unless they were old scars, too old to heal. The only other type of scar that Healers were incapable of healing was a werewolf-bite.

Lily got up from the kitchen table, and lifted Harry from the bassinet across the kitchen before seating herself beside Remus.

"Nobody's sure what curse it was that actually hit, and Sirius either can't or won't remember. It seems clean, but it just won't heal. Oh, it's closed, but it remains on his face, slicing a lightning bolt across his right eye and cheek, as well as dragging up the right side of his mouth."

A whooshing sound from the living room made Lily jump up.

"Lils?"

Remus followed Lily towards the Floo. In the fire, James' head sat. Remus resisted the urge to laugh, as he always did. For some reason, he found the sight of a person's head in the fireplace extremely amusing.

"Has Sirius come back yet?"

Remus stiffened, and Lily frowned. "What do you mean, James?"

James' brows drew together. "I mean that he left St. Mungo's nearly three hours ago, and said that he would stop by the house for a snack before coming to the Ministry."

Lily took a slow, deep breath. "I'm sure that there is no need to worry," she said. "But just in case, why don't you call Dumbledore."

James nodded. "Love you, Lils. See you, Moony." With a whoosh of flame, he was gone.

But Dumbledore could not contact Sirius.

* * *

_But He Shall Have the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not…_

* * *

"Sirius!"

Sirius turned from the corner of the Muggle street, about to find a nice hidden corner to Apparate from. "Peter?"

Peter's round face was an expression of relief. "I'm so glad I found you," the slightly-overweight young man gasped breathlessly. "Dumbledore."

Sirius' eyes widened. "Dumbledore what?"

Peter bit his lip. "Remus… something's happened. Dumbledore sent me to find you."

Sirius picked up his pace to draw nearer to the shortest Marauder. "And James?"

Peter grimaced. "Dumbledore sent Jones after him. I hope she remembers that he's married, or…"

Sirius bit back a laugh – wide smiles hurt because of the new scar – the last time Jones had been sent to find James, she had flirted with him right up until she'd received a bloody nose from Lily.

"Where do we go?" Sirius asked, pulling Peter into a shaded alleyway.

Peter held out his hand. "I'll Side-Along you."

Sirius nodded, and took Peter's hand.

They were Marauders – friends forever. Hence, when they materialized in a dark dungeon with Voldemort on a nearby throne, Sirius was shocked, stunned, horrified, and betrayed. Of course, he was also literally stunned before he had the chance to take out his wand.

After three weeks of torture and agony, though, Voldemort was no closer to discovering the whereabouts of Lily, James, and Harry Potter.

"What is the Secret? _Crucio!_ Tell me! Why won't you tell me, you ignorant fool!"

Sirius spat out a mouthful of blood. "No."

"_Imperio!_"

"No."

"_Laniarelacerti!_ Tell me! Tell me the Secret and I'll stop the pain!"

Despite the pain that made even the Death Eaters shift uneasily, Sirius gave Voldemort and insane smile.

"Never."

Voldemort's eyes flared red. Sirius screamed, and the new scar the ripped across the Black Heir's handsome face tore open, spilling blood onto the ground. In a hiss that was nearly Parseltongue, Voldemort spat out a curse unheard of for centuries.

"_Cruciatus Maximus!_"

Sirius arched his back, his screams were a sound unheard by the Death Eaters – rather than of pain, there was a satisfied note to them. When people said that the Black family was insane… even Bellatrix would have cracked under this much concentrated pain.

"Why won't you break!" Voldemort screamed in frustration.

Sirius let out a hoarse laugh. "It's something you would never understand…" he said, spitting out a globule of blood. "A power beyond your control."

"_Crucio!_"

* * *

_And Either Must Die at the Hands of the Other for Neither Can Live While the Other Survives… _

* * *

Sirius had no clue how much time had passed. It could have been a day. It could have been a year. He had finally managed to do nothing but think of the present. And the present – the present was pain.

Every form of torture, from Ancient Muggle Style to curses to potions to psychological hits – Sirius was uncertain if he could remember his own name, at this point.

They had left him alone in the cell.

Sirius had no illusions, he was certain that there was a guard. But he was alone enough to take off his shirt and attempt to clean some of the blood off of his face, alone enough to not have to worry about pain for another hour at least.

While swiping some of the blood off of his face, Sirius gasped as he felt something slice his hand open. Looking down, he grimaced, and felt a solitary tear streak down his face.

The necklace. The pewter star that Remus had given him three and a bit years ago. At some point, probably during the torture, one of the edges had broken off, making a sharp point.

Sirius hated the idea of taking the necklace off, but he knew that leaving it on was just asking for self-injury.

With shaky hands, Sirius removed the necklace for the first time since he had received it. Unsteadily, he tied the cord around his right wrist, so that the star hung near his hand, where he could still clasp it easily.

Sirius had just pulled his shirt back on when the door to his cell slammed open, and he was dragged out to the circle of Death Eaters.

"What do you want?" Sirius choked out hoarsely. "You know I'll never tell."

Voldemort laughed. "Ah, yes, we have determined that pain is not a spur enough for you." (Privately, Sirius wondered if that was supposed to be the "royal We".)

"But…" At the vocalization of that word, a pair of Death Eaters strode into the light, and threw a bedraggled and beaten figure into view. "Can you live with yourself, knowing that it is your fault that _he_ will die?"

Sirius stared. "Moony," he whispered, his voice cracking. The choice… what did they call it? Devil's choice? No matter what he chose, he still lost. If he chose Remus, he effectively betrayed James and Lily. If he chose James and Lily, then Remus…

Sirius could feel his heart breaking all over again, staring hungrily at the body in the center of the circle. It wasn't _fair_. His hands clenched.

Something poked the palm of his right hand, hard enough to break the skin. The necklace.

Sirius took one deep breath, and then another. Later, if someone were to have asked what was going through his head, Sirius probably would have stared blankly at the questioner.

Slowly, Sirius focused his magic. Without his wand, it was slow going, but he poured all of his strength, every last droplet of power, into the jagged edge concealed by his hand.

Lifting his head, Sirius let a tear roll down his face. "I'll tell you," he whispered. "Let him go."

"Sirius!" Remus shouted, but the Death Eaters covered the horrified gasp with startled murmurs. It seemed that the life of Remus Lupin would gain for the Dark Lord what hours of pain had not.

Smiling, Voldemort paced slowly over to the place where Sirius lay, and leaned down. "Tell me, Black." His voice was silky and it made Sirius feel wretched. "Tell me the Secret."

Sirius took a deep, shuddering breath. The necklace shifted slightly in his hand, and he could feel the magic swimming in it.

"The Secret," Sirius whispered. "The Secret… is…"

In a single movement, one lacking of any grace or coordination whatsoever, Sirius hurled himself at Voldemort, slashing down furiously with the jagged metal edge. Through the conduit of the necklace, Sirius poured out every fiery drop of magic, focusing on one outcome.

Light blazed, skin tore, blood spurted; a scream ripped through the sudden silence, followed by a steady _drip drip_ of blood as Voldemort's dead body fell to the ground. The Death Eaters were frozen with shock as the man that they had grown oddly fearful of fell to the ground beside his now-dead enemy.

"Sirius!"

Remus ran to Sirius' side, as the _cracks_ of Apparation gave sound to the entry of the rest of the Order. Sirius smiled vaguely up at Remus as the world went dark.

"I didn't tell."

* * *

_The One with the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord Shall Be Born as the Seventh Month Dies…_

* * *

**AN:** Please Review! This is definitely my angstiest fic ever!


	2. Sad Ending

**Disclaimer:** As I am a simple person who does not own tons and tons of money, I must admit to being a plain American girl, and not JK Rowling. Therefore, I do not own Harry Potter and the connected involved characters. Oh, well...

**WARNINGS:** This story contains mild slash, extreme torture, (but not too graphic,) possible bad language, and depression of the highest degree. This is not a fluffy fic. Furthermore, there are no Horcruxes, and, as far as I'm concerned, books six and seven DID NOT HAPPEN. Right-o, to the story, now...

**WARNING NUMBER MOST IMPORTANT **(Okay, that's not a number) - If you do not like sad and depressing endings, SKIP THIS CHAPTER AND GO TO THE NEXT ONE. They are interchangeable, depending on whether you want a depressing ending or an uplifting ending.

**SO IF YOU DON'T LIKE DEPRESSING ENDINGS, SKIP THIS CHAPTER. SKIP IT.**

* * *

_The One with the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord Shall Be Born as the Seventh Month Dies…_

* * *

**Ending One:**

Sirius stared at the calendar. "Happy anniversary," he murmured.

It was September 30th, 1999. The anniversary of James and Lily's wedding.

Curiously, Harry had gone on to get married today as well, only last year. Harry had breezed through Hogwarts, been Ravenclaw Prefect, Quidditch Captain, Head Boy, and then gone on to marry a beautiful girl named Luna Lovegood.

Currently, there were two more weddings in the making. In two years, Harry's younger sister Rosalina would be marrying the current Heir Longbottom, Harry's Gryffindor yearmate, Neville. And next year…

Sirius bit his lip, swallowing back the pain that always seemed to wait right on the edges of his consciousness, waiting for him to give in.

As it had turned out, Voldemort was deader than deader than dead, and the prophecy was declared null and void. Trelawney was soon out of a job, and the Death Eaters were swiftly demolished.

And next year, on September 30th, Sirius would have another reason to hate the day that had begun the end of his life.

On September 30th, 2000, Remus John Lupin was preparing to marry Nymphadora Isabella Tonks.

Sirius thought of September 30th as the day that he was reborn. First, as someone without love, and second, as the Secret Keeper who would kill Voldemort.

Turning to face the mirror, Sirius scowled at the now-famous scar that slashed across his face. It signified many things, but to Sirius, it signified the fact that, despite having won the War, and become a Hero, ultimately, Sirius Orion Black had lost.

**FIN**

**

* * *

**

**_THE PROPHECY RECONSTRUCTED:_**

THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES… BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM… BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES… AND THE DARK LORD SHALL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL… BUT HE SHALL HAVE THE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT… AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HANDS OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES… THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD SHALL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…


	3. Happier Ending

**Disclaimer:** As I am a simple person who does not own tons and tons of money, I must admit to being a plain American girl, and not JK Rowling. Therefore, I do not own Harry Potter and the connected involved characters. Oh, well...

**WARNINGS:** This story contains mild slash, extreme torture, (but not too graphic,) possible bad language, and depression of the highest degree. This is not a fluffy fic. Furthermore, there are no Horcruxes, and, as far as I'm concerned, books six and seven DID NOT HAPPEN. Right-o, to the story, now...

* * *

_The One with the Power to Vanquish the Dark Lord Shall Be Born as the Seventh Month Dies…_

* * *

**Ending Two:**

Remus sighed, and walked into St. Mungo's. One of the interns waved at him as he went past.

Three years ago, people had stopped him, waving papers in his face and demanding that he stay away from the patients, like a proper werewolf.

Today, September 30th, 1983, he was barely noticed as he walked the familiar path to the Long-Term Ward.

Ever since that fateful day, that last day in October, Sirius had been unresponsive. Oh, he ate, and he physically reacted like a living being, but he seemed to have forgotten everything but the basics. He was less than a baby, because babies have emotions. As far as the Healers could evoke, Sirius didn't. Or at least, he didn't react.

Remus often wondered whether there was some sort of twisted punishment hidden in Sirius' insanity. Sometimes, he felt as if it was his own actions that had driven Sirius to the point that pain meant nothing, that death did not sway him.

From what they had managed to piece together after the last of the Death Eaters had been dealt with, Sirius had been slowly falling into a depression. At the chance to be useful to the only people who cared about him, Sirius had not even thought about looking before jumping in with both feet.

Dumbledore had decided that the prophecy must have been overridden, although by what, he would not say. Lily just sneered at the idea of Divination, while James mourned the betrayal of one Marauder and the insanity of another.

Pushing open the door to Sirius' room, Remus sat in his usual chair. After much time, Remus had decided that one _could_ say that the prophecy was fulfilled.

Sirius had become the Secret Keeper, taking on a new part to his life, at the end of the "Seventh Month," September. He had become the Secret Keeper to those who had thrice defied Voldemort – Lily and James. And the shocking way that Sirius had defied, and, in the end, killed Voldemort – well, if that wasn't a power beyond Voldemort's understanding, then what was.

Reaching forward, Remus stroked Sirius' cheek. "I regret it, you know," he whispered. "Back at the wedding, when I told you no… I was scared. I was scared of getting you, and then loosing you. But, I guess that the Muggle saying is right. Better to have loved and lost…"

Remus drifted off, his eyes distant.

"Moony? Rem… that you?"

Remus jumped. Sirius' grey eyes, that only moments ago had been blank, were flickering around the room. "Where am I?"

Remus took a bracing breath. "St. Mungo's. Hold on a moment." A flick of the wand and a murmured spell, and a message was off to the Healers.

Sirius was trembling. "What happened? I was... and you were… and then Voldemort… and then it all goes black and –"

Recognizing the symptoms of hyperventilation, Remus reached forward hesitantly and rubbed Sirius' back. Where were the Healers?

"You killed him," Remus whispered hoarsely. "Just before the Order got there – you killed Voldemort."

Sirius gaped. "Me?"

Remus nodded. "You're a hero, Padfoot. Harry's three, now, and you have an Order of Merlin, First Class. Voldemort's dead, the war's over."

Sirius looked stunned. "The war's over. It's really over." He seemed to be having difficulty getting past that. And then – "Were you telling the truth?"

Remus blinked. "Truth about what?"

Sirius took a shuddery breath. "Better to have loved and lost," he quoted. His eyes shone with hope.

Remus could hear footsteps in the hall, but no longer would he allow the happiness that he had pushed away stay out of his grasp.

"Every word," Remus affirmed.

Sirius's mouth fell slightly open, and, rather than close it the way he would have in their schoolboy days, Remus closed it in another, just as efficient way.

He liked this way better.

They were so busy kissing, neither of them noticed when the intern came in and shrieked.

**FIN

* * *

**

**_THE PROPHECY RECONSTRUCTED:_**

THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES… BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM… BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES… AND THE DARK LORD SHALL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL… BUT HE SHALL HAVE THE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT… AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HANDS OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES… THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD SHALL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…


End file.
